BODY ELECTRIC
by Deadfield
Summary: He recalled saying "I don't think it can get any worse than this." earlier in the day, but that was before he was shoulder checked into a transformer box and left passed out in the middle of a corner store in his human form. He also recalled saying "My parents are going to kill me!" but that was before they sent him off to Wisconsin so Vlad could be his "Mentor" (Au, pompous pep)
1. Roll

Interestingly enough, Maddie Fenton had been nothing like the man she married. In the luxurious empire that was her prime (which admittedly, she still rode her own coattails) she could be described as an icon. The deep browns of her hair were curled and teased into perfection. Her makeup was astral, and she made an effort to tower the blues and purples of eyeshadow over the dark blacks of a liquid liner. Her lips hid the straight percussion of a white array of teeth, which were only stained by the red of her lipstick when she impulsively bit her lip in thought. The expanse of her wardrobe allocated jackets unreleased and skirts and dresses galore. And her shoes could be described by one word; imported.

Her husband, in what could be examined as his prime, was the equivalent of a ghost chasing stoner. His hair laden with grease and gel from styling and stirring a mullet that rivaled no other. His stubble (which he triumphantly deemed "erotic") droused a chin akin to a shovel, and the rest of him could be described as you would regard any other upperclass college boy who drank almost as much as he jerked off.

In their prime, they were nearly unstoppable, their downfall being condom-less splurge of pseudo luck that came in the back of Jack's low rider after after a autumn festival. Maddie would show the strength of many, and attend her classes with diligence, maintaining a 4.5 in her senior year it university while Jack, in addition with his schoolwork would write an award - winning thesis on the history of paranormal activity, while taking up two jobs at the local mall.

They were having a baby.

In the late reaches of June, in the year 1989, Jazmine Rebecca Fenton was born, with shining eyes and tufts of her mother's copper hair.

Jack Fenton would appeal to a court of the scientific demeanor bravely through the doubt, and acquire a grant for paranormal investigative sciences in the year of Jasmine's fourth birthday and sixth lost baby tooth.

Nobody actually expected them to capture a ghost.

The community was turned upon its head. Religious houses were in a uproar, humane groups protesting for the specimens release, and at a point, a story that Jack and Maddie Fenton had abducted and disfigured a missing high schooler surfaced like a whale in the deep.

That was around when the ghost hunting boom of 1996 spread like wildfire. Jack and Maddie Fenton were awarded the most prestigious award possible, and paranormal investigation became the rage of the streets. Teenager and adults, you'd and old poured out in either support, or protest, and a social schism had formed in the community. Hell, good morning America did a showcase on ghosts, which while it was largely inaccurate, brought even more attention into the community.

That was around the time that Jack and Maddie Fenton decided the christen the sheets of their newly purchased Yew and Oak bed.

And with an ear shattering scream that Jazz heard while she was in the process of making her breakfast of toast and oranges, Maddie announced her second Pregnancy.

He was bald when he was born, but he was gifted with the vocals of a howler monkey. Hell, when he was brought home, the boy howled so much that Amity Park pleaded with them to soundproof their house. At the age of a month and a half, Daniel Thaddeus Fenton had to be moved to the laboratory, which was really just a glorified basement to be kept quiet at all times.

But in the year 1999, the coming pressure of Y2K, people forgot all about the ghosts, and life returned to normal. Jack and Maddie were the parents of a four and eight year old, and had toned down, but still pursued Ghosts like children pursued candy.

That was the reality of the teenaged Danny. His parents traded their opulence for moxie and hunted ghosts left and right, Dissecting and writing papers. And even with ghost hunting in decline, the ladder still brought in money and they lived a pretty wealthy life. It was then, in the freshman year of Danny's high school career, that the boys parents unveiled their newest research project; a gate to the homeworld of the ghosts.

It was greenlit almost immediately.

Danny remembered all too well the big delivery of large twisted metal and boxes upon boxes of screws that were siphoned into the house's basement while Danny loitered on the top of the stairwell, reluctant to help. He remembered from then on, and deep into his summer he would wake up to the sound of a hammer pounding metal, and fall asleep with a twisting of screws into metal. Then in the early autumn of his sophomore year, he came home to a father glowing with triumph, and and a mother brimming with a smile while she prepared a celebratory toast.

Danny remembered it was the first and last time he wanted to taste the strong tang of Brandy brewed in the deep south.

His father moseyed on with his wife, grinning and giggling while Jazz and Danny faked a sense of accomplishment on their parents behalf. It took only a good eleven minutes before Jack Fenton howled that they should see the first test of the Fenton portal.

The basement was as cold as it was sleek, decorated with gadgets and etcetera that lined the harrowing walls and gave them a grim demeanor. At the end of the silver plated suite, was a door that looked akin to the hatch of a submarine. Danny sheepish prodded his way around the laboratory while his father unveiled and unmasked the invention he so fondly (and predictably) dubbed, "The Fenton Portal."

Almost immediately following her husband's speech, Maddie Fenton seized the power cable, and with a grin, she plugged it in.

Almost immediately the machine whirled to life, and the air in the room became as dry as the desert. Maddie and Jack cheered like fans at a sporting event, while Danny shielded his eyes and Jazz reeled back. he remembered it being loud, not like a concert but rather like an eternal ringing in his head. It was like a secretary's office phone had been jammed between the pink of his ears and was ringing off the hook. It was like a fire truck was reeling at him, or the screech of a megaphone resounded from his cerebellum, and the flickering of the lights made it no better, the rapid blinking making it like a epileptic nightmare, right in his own home. And just when it was about to purge Danny into the deep, the harsh rebuttal of sparks and discharge pounded through the room, and the entire basement went black.

It smelled of burnt metal and plastic, and was dark like a closet at midnight. Maddie found a flashlight and with care, approached and examined the remains of the helix box.

Danny remembers his parents shamefully climbing the stairs, Jazz following like a streetcleaner to their disappointment. Danny was still in shock.

To be honest, he didn't quite remember how he managed to convince himself that pulling on the black and white ecto-thermal suit would help, but regardless, he clawed for the zipper and rocked uncomfortably at the stiff soles of the suit under his feet.

Sacking in air he found himself tiptoeing inside the broken ghost portal, while icy blue found the relative tangent of the design intriguing. He was engrossed, his ultimatum drawing near as he patterned down the hall, admiration and empathy for his disappointed parents growing in his gut as he viewed the work that he was done. Absentmindedly, a gloved hand searched for a place to rest as he leaned to ensure balance, and with so, his hand found the still-hot sting of the broken eternal helix box.

He would lie to even remotely imply that it was painless. Even more so as anything under excruciating. He could see his skin crawl. He could see the frigid movements, the hot to cold to hot transformation of having one half of every DNA helix in his body ripped, and replaced with an ectoplasmic substitute ripped straight from the ghost zone. He could feel it in his hair, a splitting feeling that climbed through the boy as he writhed on the floor of the Fenton portal, froth vomit and urine gracing him with the delicacy of of a rusted war hammer.

Argo, Daniel Thaddeus Fenton lie dead on the smoldering remains of a helix box and his own filth, in the inner walls of a gate to a ghost world seemingly pressing down on him like a steamroller.

It was almost as graceful as it was shocking.

X X X

The first thing he noticed was that the suit had inverted colors. Granted, he should be worried about his well being more, but he knew his father would eviscerate him if even a ding was on the suit that his mother had made by hand herself. The next thing he noticed was the blinking of the standby lights of the Ghost Portal. Had the helix box been fixed? Had it just taken a second to warm up? The but plastic and scorch marks on his right hand and on the wall said otherwise.

The third thing was his public hair. Granted, everyone's a little different, but when he pulled down the suit to ventilate himself and change back into his jeans. (The suits were made out of high end polyester that stuck to you like skin) he noticed a pubescent jungle of public hair whiter that fresh snow.

And he soon found out that when you stand naked, in front of a mirror in your basement to make sure you hadn't sprouted a tail, that the mirror could tell no lies. Even the hairs on the back of his thighs were white for Christ sake.

Following that revelation, the erethal glow of poison green eyes scanned him up and down through the mirror. The followup came when he examined himself from his hair down to his toenails in the mirror.

Surprisingly, his heart not beating had caused the least surprise.

It was only when jazz, who had been told to fetch Danny, called his name that the boy snapped into defense mode, and with a wave of white, his eyes were blue, his hair; black and his heart beating came to him like camouflage to a jungle.

Daniel Thaddeus Fenton had died, but only halfway.

The irony of it all.

It would take a good four months of hiding and secrecy for any of the hero business to take hold. He initially bit his thumb at the idea, I mean, who had even ever heard of a ghost boy? but regardless of his denial and Tuckers begging, the appearance of the lunch lady forced him into taking the form of a ghostly demigod, and shut her down.

And with that, Danny Phantom was born.

With so, came a sixth and seventh sense, the sixth being the breath of a ghost, a type of safeguard from the savage and the malicious, and the seventh was a tandem entity, lying deep in his core. The entity was small and asleep, curled in and metaphoric ball deep in the pit of his stomach, where his power lied until he called on it. Danny threw it to the wind, and regarded It as "just another ghost thing. "

And from there, took off two years of tedious ghost hunting. He had met Skulker, a huntsman who was as tactful as he was deadly. He had encountered Desiree, who brought all of your Arabian dreams to a horrid nightmare, he had even become friends with Valerie, a woman with a vendetta toned in shades of gray.

With his powers, he was under the impression that he would be away from the prying eyes of authority. His flight kept him from getting to class late, even when he'd drown the long nights in video games games and movies. His super strength effectively allowed him to embarrass Dash and bench press enough to make the ladies (or so he thought) crazy for him. His ghost vision let him cheat on tests he hadn't studied for, and his intangibility let him reach into his favorite stores at night and hoard off his favorite snacks and treats. The abuse of his powers was fine as long as it it didn't become chronic, right?

Wrong.

They caught him knocked out with a ghastly bruise over the backside of his head, lying in the remnants of ten racks of food, snacks, and cans all cushioning his weight. The irony of it was, that the boy had been underway with the containment of a rampart host, when a rightly timed tentacle clapped back across the boys head, sending him with enough force to not only wreck the store, but also knock him straight into the stores transformer boxes in the back room, giving him a shock so brutal that he reverted back to his human form quicker than lightning.

Danny recalled, the thick accent of a man who sounded like he had a mustache (he did) cursing and carrying on about what the boy had done to the store. Danny raised up and batted his eyes, the hair on his body still on end as he attempted to formulate words. He wanted to explain that he had been thrown in the building, and gussy it up with some tears and pained whines but before he could even breathe out out a pained whine, the cold clack of silver handcuffs met his sore wrists, and he found his chest becoming friends with the cold metal of a squad car.

Jazz said that when Maddie found out, she woke up everyone on the block.

Theoretically, Jack and Maddie Fenton would reprimand their son and like any other child, he would be forced to two months (at the minimal) of grounding, he would have to pitifully apologize to the owner of the shop, and guarantee the payment of the broken glass pane and all the food he ruined, but when Danny woke up, cold and uncomfortable in a rumpled hospital gown, all he got was tears, and "I'm so glad you're okay."

In the beginning, Danny found his voice hitched in his throat. It was dry and hoarse, and his mother's pratting and her deathgrip wasn't helping. Jack Fenton came next, his big hurling man hands coming down on his sore shoulders like a hammer on a nail. Danny yelped and Jack gave a quiet but sheepish grin to his flinching son. Danny pulled the strap of the hospital gown off his shoulder, and felt around until he felt the dryness of scarred skin bunched together with stitches.

"The doctor said that one is going to take a while to heal." Jazz lisped as she adjusted her hair and tucked in behind her ear. Her hands came to cover her brothers, and she moved him away from the stitches. "Don't fiddle with it, if they come out then you'll be in bigger trouble."

His heart sank like a rock in the ocean at the mention of trouble. In his momentary daze of waking up in a hospital bed, he found enough of a distraction in his family to invoke a nice bit of blissful ignorance. But he couldn't hide behind it forever, he supposed. His mother soon would show her claws, and his father's voice would soon come down upon him like snow in the Ozarks, and he'd most likely end up working of the debt from the store damage until he was twenty.

Maddie saw her son's face fall, so she put a consoling hand on his shoulder. "Don't be mistaken, we're very disappointed in you, but it's obviously partly our fault because we hadnt disciplined you properly." She said slowly, taking Danny's hand. Jack slid over to the starboard side of the bed and put his hands on his sides. "I should have been a better father instead of shutting myself up in the lab all the time with the portal and such." Maddie nodded in agreement, and Danny opened his mouth to the interject, but was cut off by his mother. "Hopefully a new setting will help you out, build some character and such!" She giggled at her own words, as the halfa adjusted himself in his seat.

"No, no, it was my fault entirely." he exclaimed with dejection heavily spotting his words. "I did something stupid on impulse, and got scared and hurt when the alarms went off." He lied beneath baited breath. What was he supposed to do? Transform into a ghost in the middle of a hospital and possibly jeopardize his and his families safety? Hell his family had such a vendetta for anything with the slightest amount of ectoplasm in its skin that he couldn't completely trust them with his secret yet. Not to mention the fact that the hospital was alive and breathing with patients patients, doctors, and nurses. They could strap him down and cut him open whenever they felt like it.

He gagged at the thought.

Suddenly a few years of paying to fix the store he wrecked sounded wonderful.

"Look, as soon as I get out this bed and put some real clothes on, I'll go speak to the shop owner and get a job around town to pay for the damages." He said twiddling his thumbs. He looked up and watched his mother twiddle her hair.

"Danny, all that's been taken care of. The damages and the apology, all of that." Maddie said with backing from her husband. "All you really have to do is pack."

"Woah, woah, woah, you paid for the damages and everything?" He asked astounded. He sat up, stressing out his stitches but not caring.

"Well, not really. Vlad was in town and he heard about the whole fiasco, and after some talking, he decided that he would pay for everything." Maddie said lowly. She and Vlad had a history, but she retained some respect for the man, if not sympathy. "he said, he was going to take you "under his wing" and get you back on track." She gave him air quotes for effect, while Danny's astounded face turned to one of concern. He knew Vlad. He knew him well, inside and outside the ghost social ring. Social butterfly and billionaire eccentric by day, harrowing enigma of the ghost zone by night. He had a slight (okay more than slight) obsession with his mother, and vendetta with his father which he learned about while staying at the man's mansion last fall. He'd been very quiet and under them and table since then. Danny didn't like it one bit.

"Seriously? I have to go live with the fruit loop? I'll die!" He said, Jack and Maddie not knowing how literal he was.

"Look Danny," Jack began. "it was either this, or jail, and you and I both know how bad the family would suffer if we had to pay for damages ourselves."

The boy opened his mouth in protest but a steely glare from his parents told him otherwise.

He sighed, realizing how tied his hands were. Less so tied, and more so bound and nailed to the wall.

"When do I leave?"

"As soon as you can walk."


	2. Obscruct

In the gand year of 1961, Vladimir Isvoshel Klingenschmitt (changed to Masters in the late years of the 1980 s) was born to Zosnia, the polish woman with no last name. (Her last name was Samer, an effort of her turkish mother and father's need to hide her from prejudice from European people) His father had been a russian wayfarer, and the only link that the boy would have to the enigma that was his father would be the slightly-tarnished bronze nametag that she stole from him when she walked out of his house wearing his work shirt because hers was torn down the middle. To polish standards, Zosnia was a independent woman. she made enough money to handle her own affairs, when she wanted to, she moseyed out to take a drink, and have a fling with one of the occupying russian men. The traditionals hated her, and the new aged women wanted to be her. She was an icon in her little town between a mountain and a lake, in southern poland where it got warm enough for her to put on her short skirt in the summer. But when the baby came a-knocking, she shipped herself off to the united states, to live with her aunt and uncle in the Overland Park suburbs. Vlad remembered her being the best mother she could be in her days of so, walking him to school before taking off to her job at the phone company where she came back less polish every day. Vlad could recall his Aunt s cookies that she would make on sunday afternoons, he remembered his uncle telling his mother to Act like a dignified polish woman! to which an argument would break out, and he remembered the stony mass of the church pews that he would bang his knobby knees on as he grew up. He remembered his first date, and showing showing up to without a date but still having fun. He remembered his mother's heartfelt cries as he packed the last of his luggage away for college. Vlad grew up in a great environment, with a slew of role models, but why couldn't couldn't he break the ice with Danny?

The ride in the limo had been awkward enough. Vlad, who was trying to turn over a new lead since the high school reunion fiasco, offered him a drink and a snack and mused on about little things he'd read in the New Yorker earlier that morning, but all he got out of a boy was a look so deadly, that his eyes glowed.

He couldn't still be mad about the Reunion, could he? Vlad had explained in from of Danny's parents and god himself that he was sorry about how disastrous it turned out for the family, and then, practically used up every little bit of emotion to explain to Danny that he wasn't evil, he was just (and he quotes) "Ambitious."

Danny gave him a look that was so filled with fury, that Vlad mistook it for indifference.

The philanthropist crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap, peering absentmindedly down at the suede floors, as Danny shifted his position to distance himself away from Vlad as much as possible. Vlad looked up and cooked his head, sucking his teeth and fiddling with his glass of wine that was poised neatly next to him.

"Honestly, I cannot completely understand why you're mad but I-"

Danny twisted around like a whirlwind and braced himself with a death grip on the seats. "How can you not understand why I'm mad? You tried to manipulate me into joining your little "dark side", tried to kidnap my mom-"

"I did no such thing," Vlad snapped back, sending the ice that Danny threw right back at him. "Had it not been for your reckless aiming and your father's wildness," Half of my guest rooms wouldn't have caved in and I wouldn't have had to lunge to pull your mother out of the way! Speaking of which, do you know how long it took to repair that mess? I had half a mind to send your father the bill for the damages!"

Danny slumped back and made the most unimpressed face one could possibly make when hearing about your worst enemies first world problems. "I'm not having this conversation with you. You're so nit picky that your brain nitpicks what it does and doesn't want to hear."

"I AM NOT NIT-PICKY!" Vlad roared. The depth of his stress in his voice was as apparent as night and day, so much that the driver swerved a tad when hearing him yell, in addition, his palms had heard up, significantly enough that they tore burn marks in the seams and fabric of the upholstery.

Danny, a tad shocked, looked to vlad, then to the burn marks beneath his hands, and back to vlad, more scared than triumphant at making the man lose what little cool he had. Danny, gave a lucids expression, readjusting his seat so he was at level with the man. Vlad, lifted his hands off the smoldering upholstery and crossed them in his lap. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of burned car seat, and fanned the air awkwardly, Danny watching with a slight pout.

"You do that too, huh," Danny adjusted himself and illicitly rubbed his forearm. Vlad's interest was piqued at the initial smoothness of the boys voice, but settled into it easily. "It doesn't happen very often anymore. Back in the day I used to burn down bookshelves because my temper was very...liberal."

Liberal? Danny was marooned on his choice of words. God, Vlad was so uptight even his ball sack was conservative. He giggled to himself at the thought, leaning and lounging as the limousine passed into the hills of lower Wisconsin. Danny pulled at the collar of his shirt while vlad examined his prada loafers for any spec of dirt.

The air in the cabin became as stuffy as a coffin in a hearse and, and the tension lit it up to suffocate them both. The awkwardness of the situation was thick enough to cut and spread on toast.

Vlad opened his mouth to say something but a side eye from Danny told him better, and he began to wonder If adopting the boy was the right choice. Sure Vlad could roll him and mold him, but Danny fenton was his mother's child. He inherited her will and his father's determination. Vlad would erode away the stone of resistance before that boy would remotely do anything he said, but he wondered, was he eroding stone or was he eroding steel?

No, he thought, with determination strengthening his will, he couldn't let the kiss of a wayward doubt subdue him. He was Vlad Masters. He was a billionaire and the strongest living ghost to date. He couldn't let himself be beaten before the race began. He couldn't expect Danny to break when he hadn't tried breaking him yet. Vlad sat up and grinned over his drink glass. He had nothing to worry about

Danny on the other hand, found himself slipping to a slight depression. A year with Vlad? He remembered the heat in the room with his parents the night before. His reluctance was almost as apparent as his anger. Initially, his mother and father felt attacked, stating that he only wanted what was best for him, but as Danny's anger grew, so did theirs. It became a shouting match, and while the ice he treaded on grew thinner and thinner, Jazz came between the two parties, stating "for better or worse, the choice had been made and no amount of fault or fire would change that." Danny was subdued and gave a spite filled apology, Jack and Maddie sympathizing with his poison words.

Sam and Tucker gave him the most awkward send off that was humanly possible, but the halfa couldn't blame them. How do you say goodbye to childhood friends? How do you say goodbye to your potential love interest and your wingman? You dont. You awkwardly half hug them while Vlad watches out the corner of his eye, tapping his foot ever so impatiently, and you side eye him while he clears his throat and settles into the fine leather of the limo to have a pre-departure drink.

Danny turned from the threshold of the tinted window, and peered over to vlad, making eye contact. So fruitloop, how is this plan to steal my mother go? You invented some brainwash serum, or are you going to overshadow my Dad again?

Vlad smiled.

Danny smirked.

XXX

Aside from accommodating his laboratory, the estate of Vlad Masters was a six story on one side, four story on the other monstrosity of an estate with more rooms than Danny was sure to have fingers. The minute they set foot in the estate, Danny rounded to the trunk to gather his belongings, only to catch a glimpse of the butlers and busboys hustle through the front door with his belongings. Danny opened his mouth to say something, but found himself being called over by Vlad.

Since their last visit, the place had been remodeled very Drastically, which is saying something, considering Vlad s home had been a remodeled fortress that protected the United States from the canadian-english during the war of 1812. They had pulled up the mirror floors of the lobby and replaced it with a sleek black granite that reflected him almost as much as the mirrors had. His packers memorabilia had been moved to some unknown location in the house, probably to his man cave along with the rest of Vlad s lonely middle-aged-man porn, Danny presumed. The chandelier had been replaced with some mid-18th century wheel thing that looked more appropriate for a fortress holding back Napoleon himself. The stairways broke off into a little overhang, and then rejoined overhead before splitting off into the hallways upon hallways that Danny couldn't quite see right now. He was visually impressed, which made Vlad swell with pride, even if for a moment.

Your room is on the large side of the house, i gave you the old astronomers room since you seem to like the stars and whatnot. Vlad said, allowing him some mental triumph from the hours of auspicious spying on the Fenton family. He say Danny perk up a bit, and manage to get himself under wraps. Vlad smirked and crossed his arms along the tandem of his chest, as Danny turned and looked to him cuefully. How much spying did it take Vladdie?

Vlad turned his head and rolled his eyes at the nickname. Not much, It's pretty obvious considering you have Nasa practically covering your walls.

So you do admit to spying on me?

Vlad blanched. I did my share of reconnaissance. Nothing more and nothing less.

Danny imitated the man and crossed his arms, mentally furious. What else, Did you rub one out to my mom? Get all invisible on her while she was in the shower? Vlad nearly came out of his skin. You will watch your filthy mouth this instant! Vlad gave a low growl and placed his hands on the boys shoulder. You will not speak to me any kind of way! I am the adult, and you are the child. End of Story.

How long did that one take to come up with fruit loop? Danny breathed defiantly. He was tired of Vlad, he wanted to go home, he wanted out like a dog in a kennel. Youre not my father. You don't run me. Defiance ran in his blood like oxygen, and he squared up against his enemy. Vlad made a face, deep eyes filled with a rage that counteracted Danny like a hurricane to a tornado. Watch your Damn mouth boy, or ill lock you up in the basement like i did last time.

He saw Danny audibly wince, but bounce back like a basketball in a gym. He scoffed, and rolled rolled his eyes so hard that they were inclined to roll right out of his head and out the door. Like i believe that. You were probably all up on my sister too you sicko. Well you can't have her either. Maddie never loved you! SHE NEVER EVEN WANTED ANYTHING TO DO WI-

The grip came around his neck with the quick elusiveness of a lion, and the strength of a titan. Vlads hands were there, faster and tighter than he imagined. It wasn't like last time when Vlad has seized him by the neck, no, Danny could feel his restraint then. This was choking with intent to kill. Dannys hands came to vlads, resting at first but then digging between the skin of his neck and the grasp of the man to try and free himself. He gurgled openly, while biting back tears, his hands trying to separate as vlad lifted him just enough off the ground to incapacitate him. His grip was too strong, and with the restriction of his airways he couldn't transform. He clawed with anguish at Vlad s hands, which grew unimaginably tighter and tighter along the later of his throat, and for a split second of struggling, His eyes met Vlads, now flushed with his ghostly powers.

And then, he just let go.

Danny feel to eh floor, a coughing and hacking mess, while Vlad pivoted on his heel, and went towards a hallway in the westward direction of the expanse. With hoarseness in his voice, Danny attempted to slur him to the ground, Hell, even transform to kick him through every room that he possibly could, but instead, he found himself, kneeling on the floor of the lobby, which encroached upon him like a paragon made of bricks and mortar.

XXX

Danny couldn't exactly say that his spirits were uplifted when he walked into his new bedroom, but it was fairly impressive. His room was in the southernmost spire, which overlooked the valley and the rolling forests that went on for miles. The room was two levels, the bottom level harboring a bookcase, a bed and a wardrobe, and to the left, there was a desk. Next to the desk was a ladder, that led upwards to a gated cutoff with doors to a balcony, which withheld a telescope and a astronomers log. Danny sat down on the bed, testing it out while rubbing his sore throat, and laid back onto the comforter. Aside from his fury with Vlad, the loneliness had set deep into his gut, and he found himself staring up at the patterned ceiling. He was bitter. Very bitter. Hell, he had half a mind to believe that Vlad was the one who sent that ghost t ruin his life. Hell, he had more than half of a mind to go ghost right now and sneak attack the man right now, but the fatigue and the hole in his heart, kept him from doing so. With tepid hands, he brought his hands to his neck and rubbed the raised bruised flesh carefully, wincing a little when he found a particularly painful spot next to his adams apple.

Vlad got me good.. he said aloud, kicking off his shoes and folding them on the bed. He supposed that he would have to deal for the time being.

Plopping up, he moved over to the bookcase which was a spewing combination of his books from home, and some classic literature like hemingway and the such. Danny would have to criticize Vlad for his disgustingly vanilla taste later, when he was is less of a mood later in the day. He fingers the backbone of To kill a mockingbird and set it aside for The Changeling, by Zilpha Keatley Snyder, but was interrupted by a stern knock on the door.

Daniel- Vlad came into say something, but as soon as he let the words pass through his lips, evasive measures were taken to avoid the complementary copy of The Changeling from hitting him in the head. Vlad looked up, still ducking, Danny looking furious as a wife left at the altar on her wedding day. He came to his feet and advanced, momentarily turning intangible to avoid another one of Danny s books.

Will you cut that out! Vlad roared, encroaching upon the boy and clasping onto his Wrist. Danny resisted, pulling away. Dont fucking touch me! He kicked and screamed ceremoniously. Then, his eyes, flashes green, and intangibility took him like a fire. He Phased through vlad and reeled backwards, regaining his footing, and then completely transforming in a ring of light. Vlad, grit his teeth, and transformed, as Danny took to the air and flew out the doors to the balcony overhead.

Daniel, come back here this instant! He roared as if it would do something, taking to the air and going after the boy with a vigor of worry and anger. He couldn't get far, his head start was minimal, and coupled with Vlad s eyes and his speed, evasion was like a dream to someone who needed one. Alternation out the window, hawkish eyes surveyed the trees, and the edges of the lake, his sixth sense resonating outwards to find the boy. Vlad scowled, and fixated to him in the distance of the forest, where he witnessed the boy landing. Like a pulse in a jetstream, he rocketed off, dipping low and diverging through the treetops, skimming the underbrush with is jetstream. He could see Danny about forty yards ahead, still transformed, sitting in a dim clearing amiss the leaves. Vlad transformed back to his human form, and hit the ground running, skillfully gliding a good ten feet along the leaves and underbrush, before coming to a complete stop.

Vlad took a deep breath, and leaned back against a tree. He needed to evaluate the situation, he needed to think like he had never thought before, if he was going to have Danny remotely listen to him, let alone subjugate the boy into a state of perfection. He sighed, but held hands to his mouth to make sure it wouldn't be heard, and twiddled the hair on the back of his neck. This was gonna be a doozy.

Daniel! He said enthusiastically. The phantom boys eyes flashed like a star in the night, and Vlad watched the boy hand form a point and a beam charge at the tip of his fingers. Danny Shot the beam in the direction of the encroaching halfa, who skillfully bypassed it with a half spin.

Please dont shoot at me, he breathed out the please begrudgingly. All i want to do its talk to you.

Danny put his hands down, but only put his guard up further. Talk my ass! You almost choked me to death! Youre a goddamn psycho! His hand came up again and shot in the others direction, and Vlad spun to his knees, throwing up an ecto barrier to cancel out the blast. Amiss the canceling of the beam, Danny took to the sky, but Vlad was quicker, and trained. From his hand came two ropes made of his signature pink ectoplasm, which found Danny s waist, and bound his hands and wait area in a tight bind.

Still struggling, Danny attempted to stay in the air, but Vlad slowly reeled him in with the sheer force of his body. Danny wouldn't admit it, but he secretly hoped to be able to be a contender with a ghost in his human form, just as Vald was now. Still kicking and screaming, Vlad reeled in the last little bit of the boy, and bought him nose to nose. Danny felt his last resort rise in his throat, and prepared his mouth for the ghostly wail, but as soon as his lips parted, Vlad clapped a hand over his mouth and put enough pressure on the ropes to restrict any serious screaming.

I just want to talk.

Danny rolled his eyes, from lack thereof, but still gave Vlad his attention so he didn't try and kill him again.

The choking thing was...uh, too far. Much too far. But to be fair, you went very...below the belt.

Danny wouldn't say it out loud, but he was right.

If were going to live together, under the same roof, where you and i have a warm bed, and three hot meals a day, I need you to cooperate and do as I say, and in turn, I teach you some of my secrets. You know, to fight crime. I know these ecto-ropes would come in handy. Vlad was slightly rambling, but allowed his words to appeal to dannys heroism and his desire to become stronger.  
Danny looked up and down, then into Vlads angered and stressed eyes. I m going to let you go, and when i do, i want you to go back to the house. Dinner is whatever you want it to be. All you have to do is ask. He stressed the last bit with heat in his words, and with a breath deeper than the marianas trench , he slowly unraveled the ropes and unclasped his hand from the ghost boys mouth.

Pride swelled in his chest when the boy took off for the castle.

He had done well.  



	3. Shame

They plagued him, a swarm of poison memories, and toxic dreams. He could feel it, laden in his skin, whites and blacks, peaches and pales which drowned into his own flesh like survivors unto a tempest. A breath became hitched  
upon himself, or perhaps, something else; he couldn't exactly tell as of now but he could feel them there, delving deep beyond a boundary that he couldn't tell was his, or the other.

Then it became still.

He watched the rumbling die deep in its own gullet, and swallow itself like it couldn't have existed. And with so, a wild silence came to inaugurate itself Into the equation, like an ellipsis of the heart that triggered them all. Then,  
the two became who they were destined to be. Electric blue, and Toxic green, naked and wild as the day he was born. One of peach, and the other pale like the porcelain of any china doll in the finest market. He examined them. Their eyes,  
the hair that sprouted blacks and whites from the thresholds from their scalp. Their fingers, down to the callouses, and their sex, supple but modest in its own.

Then just like that, his body was on fire, their hands all over him, burning him with their touches and their tongues. A fleeting gasp left his lips and then he was as naked as they were, and their mouths upon his neck and jawline  
suckling and licking like a calf with no sense. They were like animals, relentless and untamed as the two in tandem explored him from his knuckles to his ankles, brushing with their lips, rubbing with their smooth fingers, grinding into  
him like a dire wolf that was ready for battle. Metaphorically, sparks flew when he allowed his hands to fall and caress the bare, bony hips, and grind along with the had his hands in his hair, entangling through silvers and  
grays, and the other, pressed into his chest, not to distance, but to brace himself for what would come. One of them looked to the other, and looked into Vlad's eyes, and with a slight smirk, he opened his mouth to say something. But  
nothing came out.

And that was about when Vladimir Masters had woken in his chaise, neck stiff and dress shirt rumpled uncomfortably through his sides and legs. The shock came like a freightliner to the face, and he sat up, wondering where exactly he was,  
and embarrassingly, moved around the erection that pressed up against the fabric of his slacks. That dream, that godforsaken dream, rippling through him like tranquil waters disturbed for the hell of it. He could see it, because it was  
burned beneath his eyes, playing back like an old movie in a dark room. Behind his eyes, he could see the solemn smirk of one, and the batting curiosity of the other, and the image burned so hot, he could feel their hands on the deeps of  
his skin. Shaking, he gripped the sides of the chaise with emergency, looking in the direction of the window, and then, to the bed he usually woke in. Panic declined like stocks on the market, and he was able to sit up collectively, and  
assemble his bearings.

The dream was still wild in his head, and his body, alive with the sickly sweet kiss of am ambiguously secular dream. He watch himself in the mirror across, thinking that he might see one of the figures from his dream, but gave no dice  
nor accord to their existence. And even in so, what was he to do? Throttle them like a teenager who was bursting at the seams? He would do no such thing.

He felt disgusting and shameful. He felt angry and filthy, and in his mind, he felt alive.

The clock read 7:01. He sighed ceremoniously.

The stretching of the hallway was more than enough to make him not want to leave the room, and in conjunction with the fact that he had scheduled a breakfast that would be inevitably awkward between Danny and and he effectively pushed  
the dream to to the back of his mind. He asked; How do you break through to a boy like that? He thought with intentions of the wise and wicked. how do you enact your will on a fresh teenage mind that ironically developed the powers of a  
ghost through the means of Science. How could Vlad get him on his side? How could the man appeal to him?

Stumped, he relinquished the subject slowly down to the depths of his mind, and wildly, inaugurated himself into the hallway. He padded down, slowly but surely, the socks over the fabric kissing the floor with the most minimal of noise.  
At the end of the hallway, there was a decorative chaise, and a window that viewed over the forest, starboard to the lake. Vlad turned to his heel, and tiptoed to it, trying not to have a run in with one of his live in workers, and cale  
to the edge of the window like a king to his people. Externally, he lamented the dust on the corners of the sill, and the cracks of the paint that showed the weathering of age and years, but internally, he found the view, and the  
perchance of a little peace to course through him like a breath of fresh air. Connotatively the affection that the peace brought only could remind him of his bitterness, and with so, he found himself rarely looking out to the edges and  
ridges on a early morning.

And just as if it was one cue, the doorway at the end of the hallway a good bit down opened and closed ceremoniously, and a Heavy eyed Danny in his nightclothes stepped out, toothbrush and towel in hand.

The minute the two met eyes, Danny's eyes flashed and he began to resonate his power.

Clearly, he was telling Vlad to stay away.

Eyes locked like a door at nightfall, and the ice in Danny's gaze made his blood pump through cold, unforgiving veins. His guard was up, nobody was around, and the other halfa could launch at him full speed and nobody would need to know.  
Vlad could parry him with a kneeblock, counter indefinitely with a ectoblast, and transform on the reel. Danny would rise like sun at dawn, and rocket back at the other, this time firing wild. A ecto-shield would trance from the thick of  
Vlad's hands, and with skill he would absorb whatever Danny fired at him, and send it back tenfold. Danny would reel back, through the wall, perhaps phase through if he was fast enough, but collide with the wall after so, and the force  
would knock him out cold. Then Vlad would lock him up in the brig, and experiment with his mind until it was malleable in his hands like high end putty.

But he didn't.

Danny's scowl was hot enough to be felt across the room, Vlad could feel him resonating across the room, but instead of starting the battle of ages, he found himself watching the teenage boy pad off into the bathroom, slam the door like  
the was trying to have Vlad buy an new one, and turn on the water.

He prayed the boys tactics weren't getting to him.

XXX

Gently, would Danny take his seat at the foot of the table, cutting his eyes to Vlad who was adjacent to him at the Head, in front of a window which let a sinister amount of sun through, courtesy to the billowing curtains that rolled  
behind him. He looked iconic, morning sun dancing off his pale skin, one hand holding a glass of something pale, and the other, tapping periodically on the Mahogany/Oak combination cut that he had imported from south america. In his  
eyes, Danny could see rage, a quiet rage, but a rage nonetheless, and that shot the twinges of intimidation into the heart of the teenager, who was practically rattling in his seat at his counterparts demeanor. He was resonating, Just as  
Danny had done in their meeting in the hallway this morning. Danny supposed it was a getback, and should have known not to bait the bull in the way he had. Vlad's power was much more formal and organized than Danny's erratic ocean of  
power,. Danny, who was still demonstrating his power, struggled slightly to stand his ground, or what little bit of it he had left. He cracked a tad, and let a little in, and found the man's aura oppressive, organized, like an execution  
date, or a firing squad. And as if he didn't already know, he repeated it to himself; Vlad was not to be taken lightly.

"How nice of you to join us. I take it You enjoyed your shower." Vlad asked as formal as possible as he tipped the glass to his lips and took a ceremonial sip of his water. His eyes glassed over to the boy, who was looking toward his  
plate, still setting an example for his power for the young boy to quaver. His power poked and prodded at the other halfa's, but not to an extent to overtake him. He felt Danny's aura die down, not to let Vlad overtake, but to impart  
upon him that he knew where he stood.

Danny looked up to the older man, and sighed. "Would it kill you to not ask creepy questions?" He took a sip of his milk, diverting his eyes to the kitchen and beginning to wonder when their food would make an appearance. He felt Vlad's  
power die down a little, as the older man rolled his eyes. Danny shot him a playful smirk. Vlad wasn't all that up for it.

"Don't start with me. Its too early." Vlad replied, slightly defeated. He recalled his oppressive aura back into himself completely and shifted his positioning in his chair. He avoided eye contact, watching his mouth after that snide  
comment from the other boy, which created such a thick awkwardness between the two he was almost able to cut it out of the air and spread it on some toast.

Almost on cue, the cavalry of the kitchen (as he like to call them) burst open from the double doors of the kitchen, in their arms, a three course breakfast. The First course was the general, down-home pancakes and Bacon, Which Danny  
wolfed down like a starving man. Second course, The generic scrambled eggs and hash browns. Vlad watched the boy take to the food like a bat out of hell, and wondered if he'd have to buy out a buffet chain to feed the boy. Hell, how did  
Jack and Maddie kept the boy fed?

Third course, cornets and fruit, and guiltily, Vlad's favorite part of the meal. He watched Danny with glassy eyes across the room, who was too busy trying to figure out how to properly eat the cornet. Did he eat the fat end first? or  
did he eat the skinny end first. Vlad watched him take a deep breath after a minute or so and opt to take a bite out of the fat end, an internal gasp coming to him upon realization that there was chocolate on the inside.

Slightly disgusted and amused, Vlad ordered two more on his plate. They were gone before they touched the porcelain.

Ignoring Danny, who he hoped was occupied with his food for the moment, Vlad pulled his phone from his pocket to check his daily schedule.

He had a choice. On one hand, he could go to work alone, and sit at a desk all day and do something akin to signing papers and masturbating, or he could "Work from home." Like he would prefer, and overshadow a few employees to get them  
to do his work for him. Vlad cut his eyes like vegetables for dinner, and examined the boy across the table from him, reading into his actions, and wild tendencies, exonerating slowly upon him to make a third choice. He remembered  
talking to his receptionist, Nel, a Congolese woman who had taken care of him for the better part of seven years, that he was looking for an apprentice, purely for publicity. She narrowed her eyes at him, and murmured something in  
french, before compiling a list of high end teenage boys, (a girl would cause too much media drama) from wealthy teenage families whose fathers and grandfathers he'd overshadowed to get some funding money for one of his products. But  
now, thinking, why waste time, money and etiquette lessons when he was living with the soon-to-be perfect ghost son across the table from him, scarfing down chocolate cornets like a toddler.

But in then lied the problem. How well would Danny fare in the outside, under his jurisdiction. Granted, the teenager had not taken any openings to make a break for it yet, and that pleased him. But the city? Ghost or not Vlad's sensory  
powers could only be stretched so far, and the last thing he needed was to have to chase down a rogue ghost boy while he was on his work schedule. Vlad threw his phone on the soft of the place mat, and watched Danny take another cornet,  
and scarf it down like an animal.

Across the table, Danny, who had a mouthful of chocolate pastry, caught the eyes of the other man slicing into him from across the way. Carefully, he seized his glass of milk, and washed down the chocolate, wiping his mouth and meeting  
eyes with Vlad.

"Don't stare. You're already creepy enough." Danny started.

Vlad rolled his eyes so hard he thought they were going to come out of his head, and then lightly, took a bite of his cornet from its waiting plate. "Come back when you have some new material." Vlad retorted proudly, watching Danny's  
eyebrows go up in surprise. He could be snappy when he wanted to.

"I can't believe i got burned by a man in what, his late sixties? With all that gray…" Danny trailed off, hitting a soft spot with Vlad, who now had a hand on his head. Vlad in turn looked over to the boy, and cut his eyes again, using  
his powers to lock onto his cup of water, and with a quick flick upward, sent it sailing onto Danny's shirt and pants.

Immediately, the boy got up, sopping wet and disgusted, while the millionaire stifled a laugh that rose in his throat of its own accord. Danny glared daggers at Vlad, who, with a smirk took another bite of his cornet, and watched Danny  
turn intangible to dry himself off.

Maybe this could be interesting.

XXX

Late in the day, as the dusk came, Vlad sleuthed through the contours of the library, down through the steel of the laboratory, and he found himself in the back office, a leisure suite of loneliness wrapped in a cold steel exterior.  
Behind him, was the only window on this level, a westward window that emancipated the small bits of sun that the day left in the sky as cracks along serrated purples and blues. Along his desk, the light found the glass top of his desk,  
and cascaded along, giving the room a dimness that darkened, but illuminated at the same time. The office itself, was grand in any exposure. The desk, a complementary from the head of the Hexaco oil refinery, was a redwood/sweetgum  
piece, taken right out of the office that the CEO sat in. The Chair, and Bookshelves, donations from some Cruise Line that he "Saved from bankruptcy. They gave him their finest pieces, which complemented the Persian rug and the Ottoman  
that sat adjacent to his desk, that was a gift from the Glasgow corporation. He reclined, back into the curtains and the sunlight, and put his hands up to his nose, eyeing the wine flute that sat ever so tempting in his visage. It looked  
to him, and he looked back, while a slight craving formed in the rear of his throat.

Should he? Would it make the coattails of that dream drown in the red of wrathful grapes, or would it absorb the vigor and vile and use it against him. He was at an impasse. Drink himself Dumb enough to function, or slump in his chair  
and suffer.

He supposed he was only human. Well most of him, at least.

The flute came to his lips just as gracefully as he could set it down, and with a deafening gulp, the lukewarm wine coursed into him, and gave him his second wind.

He adored being right.

Ceremoniously, Vlad began with the tick-tacking at the weathered keyboard, slim fingers gliding over letters and numbers as he formulated a bullshit memo on proper procedure for the inauguration of the new "apprentice" into his workings  
and such. Hmm, he would have Ashlee work and print a schedule that was ultimately, purely for show. Lawrence, he supposed could submit the linings and closings for Danny's measurements for a suit. Perhaps a mid slim, or a modern fit. He  
didn't know and he didn't care much right now for that matter. Danelle could handle the boys passport, and papers, and a licence renewal was in order he supposed.

And just when he was deeply engrossed in his work, the dream came back, this time in flashes, before his eyes, blurring out the computer screen. They were there again, writhing, and naked, like a ghost of his past, like the ghost of  
someone he had hurt. He almost came to cry out, but with the opening of his mouth, He could feel the lips on him, buying fiery holes in his skin, while pales and blacks, reached lower and lower , and in the nonexistent hands, he became  
hard. A hitch appeared in his breath, and wildly, the pumping began. Along him, along his length he found a tepid, slightly hesitant, but admirably full stroking that made him shudder in his loafers. If he took the time to look up, one  
would be smiling innocently, and the other, a deadpan from green orbs that pooled upon him like his pants at his ankles. Their hands rubbed through the prickle of hair on his thighs and chest, the stroking continuing, even becoming more  
and more fervent as such went on. For a fickle moment, Vlad thought he could feel the lips of one of them, perhaps the black one, on his, but that thought was bet with a tight squeeze around his manhood, and wildly, a few deep strokes  
that drove him closer and closer to a closure that he was so destined to meet. He begged with himself, hell, to imply that he pleaded would be right on point, and with so, he felt his climax draw into him like a rod to a reel. The  
stroking because short and erratic, but alternated to a long, deep roll with the flick of a wrist that had him biting his lip, and his eyes rolling behind his eyes. He was close. Closer than close. The white one took his hands and lips  
from Vlad's neck, to help his counterpart with his nether regions, and for a moment, he thought he heard them whisper something to one another, but like always, their eyes were the only thing that he could distinguish, one of ocean, and  
the other of poison.

His chest hitched, and his toes curled, and a brooding silence came as black spots dotted his vision like bullets in a bad neighborhood, and for a moment, he felt his ears pop, and everything go as deaf as could be, before he released  
himself all over the his slacks, and the console of his desk.

He was back in his right mind.

The two figures are gone.

And in the cooldown of the heat, he realized how wrong he was. How he had lied to himself.

The figures weren't there, they were never there, it had all been a fleeting masturbatory springing, rationalized by two sexual deviants that haunted his dreams. The reality? His pants were around his ankles, His manhood was being choked  
by his right hand while his left was feeling along his stomach and lower chest. In the reflection of the table, was the thickness of white sperm that had been shed because he couldn't control himself. Disgusted, he let go of himself,  
singing and wiping off his hands with some tissues that were placed to the right of his desk, while trying his best to get to stench out of the air.

Was he cracking? No, he was Vlad Masters; Billionaire extraordinaire. He Was Vlad Plasmius, soon-to-be ruler of all that ever was and all that ever could be. He wasn't cracking, he simply had a fault in himself. A fault that could be  
fixed as easy as anything else; with a little training and a little wine.

Shameful.

At the foot of the stairs, one of the maids asks if he is okay, and if anything is wrong.

He replies with a venomous "Yes."

His mind can formulate but a single phrase as he comes down from his internal high, and with chapped lips he whispers it into the sperm stained reflection of himself in the glass mirrorage of his desk.

"Absolutely Disgusting."


	4. Selfish

On the third floor of the Masters Estate, through the winding hallways lined with dark woods and winding metals, one would have the fortune to find the arcs and twists of the integrated library, which boasted a maze of books, texts and the otherwise all in the overhang of the mansion. It spanned two levels, the upper half the size of the lower but sported a nice overhang that cliffed off into dual ladders that kissed the carpet ceremoniously. The bottom half was stocked with books upon books, editions and scriptures alphabetized accordingly along the shelves which were a deep mahogany that overarched in rows upon rows as far as one could reach. The carpet, dazzled small pale yellow lines that intersected upon one another to the point of a gridding confusion that puzzled Vlad himself. A small walk would bring you the middle, a centerplex holding a long rectangular table carved from the finest bermudian willow which presented itself with the straight backs of black leather accompanying it. In the middle, a vase that held no flowers, nor secrets.

On the southern end of the Master's Estate Library, there were two curious souls who sifted through the literature like playful children. Upon the top of a shelf ladder that was organized to reach the top, stood Danny, sifting through the sea of books with authors that began with "IL", which was honestly more shelves than it should have been, below him, Vlad took to the unlabeled authors, crouching in his dress slacks and tie as if he had somewhere to go.

Danny opened his mouth to say something, while holding a particularly heavy version of "The Immortal Rules" but opted out when He saw how Vlad had come into convergence within his work. The younger halfa breathed, the optics of oceania burning holes into the lateral of the others back, as if to say something with his eyes, while his gaze presented the fallacy of admiration that he could never give him. Interment in his house? Perhaps, but Danny could never pervert the morals of his mind with admiration for the older, even if the passing three days were filled with speechless dinners, and at a point, a display of power so grand, that it pinned the notes of jealousy into the heart of Danny. (not like he was supposed to be watching anyway.) Rather that admiration, he found the recluse of intrigue within Vlad, bridled deep beneath a boiling, perhaps scalding hate that could only be expressed correctly during the eruption of a volcano during hurricane season, but that was none of Vlad's business. At the moment at least.

"If you have something to say, consider it an alternative to sitting there and worming around it." Vlad said through pursed lips that dictated his words and Danny's like an oppressive ruler on a weak land. Danny internally shrieked, and was taken aback, and it was as if he could see the smirk that laced Vlad's lips.

"Why do you have all these books anyway? Its not like you can read them all." Danny proposed as he diligently shelved and reshelved three books to make it look like he was doing some work. Vlad turned to him and handed him a copy to shelf, which he laid on the edge of the banister carefully.

"You should be a little less nosy, Little badger." He clears his throat before continuing. "There are a lot of abandoned libraries littering the nether regions of the ghost zone from the Fourth Great War. Im sure you've run through one or two before. They're very hard to miss."

"Yeah i know what youre talkin' about." Danny followed through with Vlad, recalling how good the libraries were for escape. "But , there was a-" He puts up air quotes. "Great War?"

"Four Great Wars, two and a half dynasties."

"How do you have a half dynasty?"

"Its complicated." Vlad hissed through clenched teeth, before turning upon the boy. Partially, he leaned against the edge of the ladder and twisted his wrist as a storytellers touch. " Three hundred or so years ago, the ghost zone was split into numerous territories by a bunch of A-grade ghosts, some including Pariah Dark and Dora, and everybody was constantly fighting over territory and who got what and whatnot." He paused to wipe his mouth, and looked out the boy who was engrossed with the entirety of himself. Vlad cleared his throat and reprieve the story. "Anyway, One territory run by a sorcerer by the name of Illutha started taking over other territories under some "Conquest of Absolute Truth" or something. War and rebellion broke out, Illuthia crushed pretty much everyone and everything, and there was unity which carried over to the ghost zone we know today." Vlad twisted his wrist with a bored pretense as he spoke, marveling in a disastrous sense of dark blue apathy. Counteractively, Danny looked up, and arched his eyebrows at Vlad.

"And what was it like seeing this all firsthand. old man?" Danny smirked into his words, while Vlad sauntered back to the arching pile of literature that he had to sort through.

At the boys comment, Vlad rolled his eyes metaphorically out of his head and onto the floor, before assuming a kneeling assurance in front of his books. However, before Vlad could begin, a heavy sneeze resounded from behind him, coupled with the heavy THWUMP of a particularly heavy book hitting carpet.

"I found your book…"Danny said sheepishly.

Vlad only sighed.

They met where Vlad had been stationed, among a sina of books that formed sort of a barrier between the two and the bookshelves. Heavy shadows from the midday sun cast over the two kneeling men, while, the tormenting shadows of the bookcases seemingly peered down upon them like a jury in a courtroom. In the air, a particular staleness came when the book was opened, and the dust in the pages jumped at Danny's nose like bridesmaids to a bouquet. Danny placed his hands on his knees and focused on the glyphs on the pages, while Vlad retrieved a pad and pen from his pocket and wrote down some gibberish from the middle of the book. Danny focused on the parchment, which was laden with wild english and handwritten glyphs from god knows when. Along the hem, one would find the scribblings of measurements like; "A half bushel of elfroot," or "Keep as far away from holy water as possible."

Curiosity grew in his throat, and he looked to Vlad. "What are you copying down anyway fruitloop?" He asked. "Another love potion for my mom? Some mind control juice?" From his joke, Danny felt the situation became dire, because he knew Vlad, and he knew what the other halfa was capable of. Danny narrowed his eyes, while Vlad became flushed with anger over the teenagers statement regarding his infatuation with the boys looked Danny in the eyes, which became serious, and while he distracted, Danny shot out his arms, and snatched the book away from Vlad.

A gasp came on baited breath, as confusion washed over the blaze of anger that kissed Vlad's throat like a teasing mistress. Vlad got to his feet, the soles of his feet bouncing on the carpet, while Danny reeled back a few steps, and flashed his eyes green. The older man grit his teeth, and gripped the paper on the pad as if to choke somebody.

"Daniel." He began, prepared for another fight with the boy. "All I'm doing is looking for the correct ingredients for an anti-Ghost barrier." He pointed towards the half-crumbled paper, which had the words 'Ghost Barrier' written along the top in the men's cursive. But the boy wasn't having it in the least, and retroactively, he barked at him while retreating two steps back.

"LIAR!."

"Daniel. Read the book." He said between gritted teeth. "If i wanted to hurt you, or somebody, I'd do it myself."

Danny didn't know how painfully true that sentence was, but in so, he found a sort of trust, or rather an armistice of some sorts that made him feel inclined to believe him. He realized that he had a choice. On one hand, he could battle vlad, with intent to kill still up to him and the other while they had a showdown somewhere in the woods. On the other hand, he could give Vlad the book back, and keep quiet like a good little child that he needed to be, or on ANOTHER hand, he could set the book ablaze and hit the highway like it was rush hour.

But that was three hands.

He kept his head down as he walked back to Vlad's side, still keeping the book to his chest and his mouth shut. No need to get his ass handed to him today, he supposed

The older man went back to work, while Danny peered into the margins of the book with light in his eyes. There were grimly written notes, mostly ingredients others, musings in the sides. But as zlad careened through the pages, he found something that piqued his interests with vigor, and with a stretch, his hand came out to greet the paper while inching the book away from Vlad, who paid him no mind.

Eyes scanned over text like a hawk to prey, as his mind tumbled along the rocky path that was the imposing text that riddled out phrases of spells, to powers he assumed he could unlock. Was this how Vlad got some of his abilities? He rolled the question around on his tongue, while eyeing the older Halfa. It made sense. The energy ropes that Vlad had snatched him with on the first day was something the boy had never seen before, and he really wanted to learn how to replicate himself, like he had seen in some of his other fights.

Then in the bargains, he saw in big bold writing; "Ability amplifier" with an arrow focused to an article on something called Decensium.

"Vladdie…."

From his crucible of papers and pens, he peered up at a bright eyes boy with a book in hand. He adjusted his seating, and thought. What could he want this time. Wasn't the forlorn young literally on his heels about mass destruction four minutes ago?

"What's Descensum?"

Of course.

"Absolutely not."

At the allotment of the males response, Danny was taken aback. "All i want to know is what it is! Quit acting like im going to summon a bat-demon in your living room?"

A Bat-Demon? he would sooner bed Jack Fenton himself.

Sighing, and setting his work down in front of him, he sucked his teeth and gave Danny a bored look. "Descensum, is, if i can remember correctly, an A-Rank ritual where a ghost or a wizard or whatever pulls their own soul into the pits of their mind in an attempt to recover memories, or find some new powers, or whatever." He rotated his wrist again, boredom oozing off of him like juice from an orange. "It takes a while, and it has to be done at night. It you stay till sunrise, your mind eats your soul and you become trapped in it for all eternity. Its much safer if you have someone act as a catalyst but not many can handle it."

Danny's eyes were wide with telltale intrigue, and his fingers brushed the edges of the book with a withheld vigor. He looked up to Vlad, who was fiddling with the ends of his hair.

"Have you ever done it?" Danny asked with an upward inflection.

Immediately, Vlad's face fell, and he cut his eyes in the direction of the teenager. Had he always been this intrusive in the older Halfa's affairs? Hell, had he always been this intrusive? Vlad didn't know, and lest he care at the point in time, he just wanted to leave the confines of his dreaded library before he ended up lost and starving within the walls of the books. He looked to danny, who was looking over the form of the book with his "Jane Doe" eyes, the type of eyes that children use to get what they want. But Vlad was a single bachelor on the older end with a infatuation (if even that) with a woman who most likely never liked him in the first place.

"Once." He'd rather not assess the rest.

His self esteem hurt for a moment. He shouldn't believe what the boy said. He's nothing but a nosy child.

"Vlad, can I try it?"

And with the final annunciation of that sentence, Vlad felt his brow practically crash deep into the reigns of anger, and with a deafening glare (if you could even call it that) he gazed towards the younger boy.

"Absolutely not."

"What? Why?"

"You'll get yourself killed. There is a reason Desencum is an A-Rank ritual you know." Condescendingly, the words came from the mouth of the bigger in serrated strings that stung like needles in Danny's skin. He wasn't a greenhorn, or a small foal who could barely walk, nor was he a bright eyes amatuer fresh out of the acadmey and ready to become a martyr for nothing. No sir. He was the boy who had taken down countless enemies. He was the boy who took down a power-crazed technomancer, he was the boy who duped a ghost hunter into his own capture, and he was the boy who had tricked a wish granter into granting a wish she couldn't refuse. He was much stronger than Vlad perceived, much stronger that Vlad could EVER perceive. He looked up to the man, eyes locking and in their heads, a battle begins. Danny snapped the book shut and stood up, and looked down to vlad with every ounce of Venom and intimidation that his soul could muster, and counteractively, Vlad bore his eyes into the others from the plains of his crouching position, to impart on the boy that his standing stature meant nothing of the superiority he wanted to convey.

With an outstretched hand, and a sheltered breath, Vlad came to his feet. "Give me the book."

In his eyes, a fire that made Danny's blood run cold spread onto the boy,, nipping at his forearms and at the nape of his neck. He attempted to stand his ground, and with a selfish ton, clutched the book to his chest.

With hateful eyes, Vlad looked to the boy, and with a quick arm, attempted to snatch the book from his clutches. However, Danny was faster. As soon as he saw the twinge of muscle coming at him with malicious intent. The younger halfa clamped his eyes shut and turned intangible, sucking in a deep breath. Vlad lost his balance, and stumbled through the boy clumsily, but regained his balance a few feet behind him.

Vlad turned, a flush across his face from being made a fool in the face of his opponent, and turned back to look at him.

"DANIEL!" He roared in the boys direction, seemingly shaking the books off the wall as his power began to resonate. His temper was lost to the wind, and the fire in his stomach threatened to come up with the power of a semi truck and obliterate Danny from the face of the earth. Again, they locked eyes, Dannys flashing green as he let intangibility overtake him once again. As Vlad came toward him for round two, he let himself come off his heels and phase through the floor.

Vlad was left with a snarling temper, a pile of books, and the arches of bookshelves overawing him with their winding shadows.

"Youll get yourself killed!" Danny mocked while charting the book for reference in the dim lights of his room. the day had grown late, and the sun had retreated behind the mountains to crack small oranges and reds across the sky, seemingly at war with the shades of blue and the stars in the sky. What little light was left in the day, cast a dim prayer in the form of light through the one window enter to his room, skimming across his bedsheets to the left and kissing the wood of the floor where Danny sat. The serrated shimmers of light radiated off the pale of his skin, as he twiddled the chalk in his hands, and referenced the book, which seemingly glowed at his side.

His eyes glowed green, an aide to night vision while he took the chalk and drew a circle on the hardwood floors, muttering the findings of an incantation that he would use in a few minutes. He looked toward the book, eyes wide and peering toward the main glyph that was inscribed in the text, copying two smaller circles, and then a bigger one that enclosed the three within a ring of writing.

"A pinch of bayberry?" He muttered to himself as he chewed on his bottom lip. "What is this? Cooking with Danny?" A chuckle came to his throat, up his mood as he placed some of the Bayberrys and their seeds in the upper circle. Adjacent to that, a placement of brimstone sat threatenly, as if it was going to burn a hole through the floor.

The last circle remained empty.

Danny sat back, knees in front and his feet used as a ballis to his weight, and he put his hands to his knees. Was he really going to do this? The thought touched him like a perverse notion, drilling him between his eyes like a warning sign in a field. Sure, Decensum was an A-rank spell, which even the most powerful of ghosts had their issues using correctly, but here he was, kneeling in front of a chalk-drawn glyph expecting to emerge in the first five minutes like Rocky Balboa in the first movie. He had his doubts, Sure, like everyone, but he periodically casted them to the side. He couldn't back out now, no, he had already made a fool of Vlad, it wasn't like the boy could return to the man, tail betwixt his legs and expect little to no rehash on the spot. No sir, he had talked shit. Frivolous and slightly fraudulent shit, and there was no way in hell that he was going to let Vlad make him eat his words.

And thats when he cracked his neck, and laid down, The glyph over his head like a halo to an angel.

A breath hitched at the back of his throat, and his heart rate went up threefold. He looked to his toes and wiggled them, just to make sure he was all there, while his neck became stiff under the hardwood of the floor. An exhale came like a desert wind to a traveler who needed a breeze more than anything.

He opened his mouth, and the words came out.

"Vide, ut video, spiritus, et inspira ut. Anima et corpus, ab invicem fragmentum, sed venit ad lucem."

He felt his body hitch loosely, as if it was being jerked by a truck, and beneath him, the floor, became scarce as he began to float. In his blurred vision, he swore he could see himself, even as his body Transformed automatically. In his chest cavity, a heat like no other, wild and invigorating like a performance of ones favorite band, or like rushing into battle for the final blow. It crawled through him, from his chest to his toes, and then bounced back, skyrocketing through his spine, and overtaking his eyes with a shade of black.

The clock read nine forty-seven pm.

He had seven hours, and twelve minutes.

Two stories above, Vlad sat in his chaise, trying to focus on William Golding's "Lord of the Flies" despite the fact that it was the fourth or fifth time reading it, he couldn't recall correctly if he wanted to. But even as he tried to fixate himself over the reading glasses he was sure he didn't need, he found himself furrowing his brow over the tan of the pages, and grabbing the bridge of his nose in regret. He didnt want to say it, he wouldn't allow himself to breathe the words from the prideful tightness of his lips, and because of that, it echoed around in his brain like a child's rattle.

He should have gone after Danny.

He knew the boy was preparing the ritual as he forced himself to read. He knew that he was placing the hot brimstone on the wood of the floor, followed by the bayberry inside a white circle. He knew that he was laying out, heart caught in his stomach, and then to his throat. he knew he was watching the blinds for the sun to disappear before muttering the incantation lowly, and forcing his soul into his own mind.

He knew.

And he had yet to do a thing.

Mentally, he called himself a nancy. He was sitting here, mentally chewing the ends of his fingernails off as he hoped to god that Danny would resurge through his own mind smoothly, and with some new power that could actually put up a fight. But there was a conflict here. Deep within the confines of his gut, he had pride. And in that pride, he found himself, a torrent of anger and attitude of the stuffy small child he knew he was. What was he to do? prattle down there like a whining nanny going to check on the grandchildren she was employed to take care of? Absolutely not. The boy would learn from his actions, and suffer the consequences like any unruly child who would touch too close to the licks of fire. He would learn at his own accord, and bleed like a ruffian if he wanted to act as one.

And as much as Vlad wanted to believe his thoughts, as much as he wanted to watch Danny crawl to the dinner table, bruised, sore and beaten, he knew if he did not intervene, then there would be no Danny.

He flew down the stairs like a bat out of hell.

The second that he realized that something wasn't right, was when he clasped his hand around the brass of the doorknob and the ice cold kiss of death looked up his sleeve and bit him on the neck. The door flung open, bouncing off the wall as it hit, and Vlad took a good look at the boy before he even pressed a gasp from his lungs.

Hovering, he was about four feet off the ground, transformed while the wisps of snowy hair hung towards the floor. His mouth was slightly agape, and his breath, which was heavy and laboured left a puff of vapor as he spoke. Vlad skeeved back a tad, regarding it excessively creepy as so, but upon his face, were the baby blue hues of his eyes should be, were completely a swirling green.

He was too late.

Panic came, less in waves but underso, more of a brick wall that he had been closing in on for a time now. He felt incandescent, but wore the hat of the dunce. In his head, a relapse, an incursion of his faith that would be planted in his heart. He could lose Danny. The boy would pass away with the morning sun, and the blood would be on his own hands. Vlad would be left with a corpse, if even that. No soul to leave behind, no ghost to haunt his dreams. For the first time in his life, Vlad did not know what to do.

But as soon as that idea crossed his mind, reality came to him, and the panic died in his throat like a martyr in the war.

All Vlad could do now was guide him through.

The blazer came off, and the sleeves came up, and the male squared himself, a husk of air coming into his chest while he opened the palms of his hands, and charged them with every ounce of his ghost energy. Rocking back a tad, he came to his knees, and placed his hands on the outer ring of the circle, and exhaling. Immediately the channel of his power, spread through the circle, illuminating the ring and creating a binding through the halfa, Danny, and the circle.

All Vlad could do now is guide him.


	5. Regret

Surprisingly, the shape that Danny's mind took was more formal than anything, and he supposed that was what was irritating him to no end. He was a fun loving guy, a tad of a spaz, and moreover a bit of a badass, if he did say so himself. But his mind, or the shape that it took, didn't reflect that at all. He realized that when he woke up and he found the bare parts of his arms sweating and sticking to the hardwood of a office meeting room table.

An audible "Yuck" came from his mouth as he sat up, eyes blurring into focus as he wiped the crust from his eyes. There was an audible hitch in his breath, and he winced as he popped his knee into function. He already hated this place. It was too bright, even with the dark of the leather seats, the fluorescent lights that swung overhead bore into the blue of his eyes and burned his retinas out, and adjacently, the wide open full-pane windows that let the visions of an overcast day into the room. Panning to the wide windows, Danny gawked at the skyline, which proposed that he had to be at least fifty stories in the air. He supposed that he was in a skyscraper, one that overlooked the windings of a city that was more silent than the dead in their graves. Danny chewed on his bottom lip, activating the keen ends of his ghost vision, and found nobody on the streets. Not a soul, nor car crawling the pavement in their daily routine.

He felt uneasy.

Danny peeled his eyes from the glass, and padded over to the door on the opposite side of the room, looking out into the neatly organized office building, with cubicles arranged in rows of 6 across the walls and down the carpet, all dead silent, except for one, which harbored a ringing telephone.

The unease grew.

He stepped out, the carpet crunching under his shoes, and the air growing colder as he descended down through the cubicles, looking for the ringing phone. Danny's shakiness grew with each bleat of the unseen phone, and it seemed as he moved on, that the air took a dive in terms of temperature, and danny felt his fingertips begin to go numb. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. The setting was too gloomy, and the walls between the cubicles seemed to close in on him like the walls in an indiana jones movie. He shivered internally, feeling the soul of regret kissing the back of his neck, and silently, he wished that he was home. With the beating that he had taken he should be used to this. The frost in the air was something he could take, amity got cold often, and the ghost zone was even colder, but this type of cold wasn't of this world. This frost seemed alive, and with every step that he took, advancing down the hallway to the ringing phone, it crept underneath his arms, and chilled the back of his legs.

He shook off the intimidation of the cold as he rounded the corner, and found a phone, ringing off its god-given hook, and Danny exhaled happily at his expense, approaching the ringing phone, and gazing at it with his big blue eyes. initially he withheld the intent to answer the phone and hopefully get an idea where he was, but he was wiser than that. Countless fights with the likes of Technus and Desiree taught him that traps were all too common in places like this.

His hand came to rest as the side of the phone, whose ringing was burning his numb ears at this point, and with opened eyes he searched for a clue. Had he learned a shred of anything from any movie at all, he knew full well that this wasn't right, and as an expose on his mind? If even. I mean, what part of the psyche does a phone with the pulchritude of a small child represent in his psyche anyway? It was simply absurd!

Bypassing, he went to the clunky computer at the side of the station and examined it. It was an older model one that would be outdated to the point of being thrown out in favor for for a newer version, and strangely, wires came out the back of it, but didn't connect to anything. They just went through through a hole in the computer desk and down, seemingly through the floor. Hesitantly, he pressed the button to turn on on the monitor, but nothing happened. He wonder what this meant to represent, but settled on leaving that part of the hunt alone for now, Lest he die in wonder. He pulled on the wires, but they were tightly strung, like the strings on a cello.

Danny didn't like that.

Begrudgingly, he turned back to the phone,which had his ears bleeding at this point, and inspected the wires that went into the floor, grimacing at having no way to unplug it. It was a state of of the art conference phone, a lot like the one that Vlad had in his office, with a screen for the caller ID and everything. Danny recalled fiddling with it when Vlad wasn't around to make calls to his family and friends back home. But this feature was different, it had a slot for the caller ID of the incoming call. Curiosity overtook him as he ignored the phones screaming, and he squinted to read the number, and then, wished he hadn't.

It was his home phone number.

He stepped back twice, almost tripping over nothing, and with each step he took the ringing became louder and louder. His back hit an invisible wall, and shockingly, the halfa couldn't move his feet anymore. Paralysis took him like a thief in the shadows, and he swallowed harshly, as he came to a decision. Pandering eyes came back to the words on the screen, his home phone number reaching out to him as if it was begging to be answered. Danny was scared. Too scared, and the more and more he tried to make it go away, the louder and louder the ringing got. He realized that he had had a choice to make. He could stand here for all eternity, trapped in his personal hell, or he could answer the phone and hopefully find a way back to the real world.

The minute Danny pulled that phone off off the hook, he wished he hadn't.

It rattled him at first, but then it came into play with the rest of his body, an he could feel the white hot pain of his eardrums bursting again and again. Danny dropped the phone to the ground to cover his ears, and felt tears sting at the ends of his eyes from from the pain. beside him, the bleating of the receiver took to a deafening scream, blood curdling like thousands upon thousands being churned into dust for the dogs. He squirmed against it, praying that maybe, just maybe, if he dug his pathetic head into the rug that it would drown out the noise, but he felt his eardrums pop in tandem, and he almost came to vomit. Blood trickled from his ears and the boys stomach did a sickening flip when it touched his hands and began to trickle through his hands and down his arms. The screeching increased and Danny buried himself deeper and deeper into into the carpet, and he opened his mouth and began to scream against it to drown out out the noise, but It overtook him, and went a pitch up. Danny's eardrums were searing and he rolled around In agony, blood staining the carpet along with his hot tears. The The sound prevailed to an alarming level, and the building began to quaver along along with along with the boy. The lights flickered at an erratic pace and burned through Danny's eyelids. He wanted it to stop, he wanted the flashing flashing and flashing, and the screaming screaming and screaming, stop but he couldn't think of anything. Any type of hand movement let more of the alarm of sound getting in, more of the sound in, and If he dared to open his eyes, the lights would steal his vision.

He didn't know what to do.

And then, almost as if on cue with his suffering, the screech from the telephone grew to such a high pitch that it blew out everything. The glass that lined the windows burst into pieces, followed by the lights, and the phone itself. Danny felt felt the shards bounce off his back but was too scared to look up and see what had happened.

In the real world, Vlad watched with fear in his throat as the boys ears began to bleed. In sympathy, he poured more and more of his power into keeping Danny stable.

It was all he could do.

After the horrid ringing from the telephone earpiece had stopped, Danny was left alone with the blood on his hands, and the ringing in his ears. He unclasped his eyes, and pulled his hands off the sides of his head, and groggily looked up to survey what had happened while he had taken was glass and light bulb fragments everywhere, along with the serrated shards of the windowpanes that had blown inward upon the building, and gave the outer ring an even thicker coating of glass that was deadly sharp. Danny got to his feet, shivering against the cold and the draft that came with the winding ends of the now-open windows, and set his eyes on an exit sign which beamed at him to his left. The pounding in his head was crippling as he increased towards the exit, and the limp from his general soreness of his head exploding made pushing the heavy metal door open a task for even the strongest of men.

He stepped out into the stairwell, the door slamming behind him shook him a tad before he began down the stairs. The air was different here, more stale, as if it had just been circulating in the stairway for years, it carried a heavy thickness of dust that stung his eyes as he took his steps slowly. The marker on the wall told him that he was descending towards the forty-fourth floor in the building.

Danny came to the stopway, and furrowed his brow. There was a door with an exit sign, and no other stairwell to go down. It stopped down as if this was the ground floor, and Danny began to question the protocol of whoever designed the godforsaken building. He sucked it up, and supposed that he would have to find another stairwell or an elevator that worked, and mentally, he prayed that he could find a way out without another altercation with a telephone or any of its kin.

He opened the door and stepped out, a blinding light searing into his eyes and a wild gust of air smacking him in the face and numbing his ears. He brought his hands up defensively, and blocked his face with his arms, setting his feet up to run in the opposite direction, but grimaced as the door gave a rough slam behind him. He stayed there like that, for an upwards of thirty seconds, minding himself before the hands came down and he gasped to take in the sight.

He was in a field, full of tall grasses and marigolds of the same and the different, accented by goldenrod that perched themselves above the others as if the view the skyline. The hills rolled on upon one another, and in the distance there was the greenery of trees that could be barely be made out by the naked eye. The wind blew in wandering circles, in and out upon one another, and Danny clapped his arms behind the breeze in an effort to keep warm. The Halfa turned to look behind him, only to find that the building wasn't there, and there was nary a mark nor murder to ever hit that it had even existed. The only testaments to it being the ringing in the boys ears and the pounding in his head.

The ghost boy turned back to the rolling fields, and overcame shock as his ghost breath went off like an alarm, and his ghost vision gave him the advantage of locking onto a figure in the distance. Sporadically, a hope was planted in Danny's mind, and he took off running, almost tripping as he slipped and slid along the most dew of the grasslands beneath his feet.

"HEY!" he bellowed, the hoarseness of his own voice scaring him a tad as he whimsied along and came to a stop, the cloaked figure turned, face still hidden by the dark of the cloak, and Danny felt the tension between them shock through him, and considered running as the air became static like in demeanor.

In the real world, Vlad began to sweat as he poured more of his power into keeping the boys table, His blue eyes meeting the green voids that had replaced Danny's. Fear grew in his heart to the boys power began to resonate and build up, and he prayed that he was doing alright inside his own head. He shook some sweat off his brow, not daring to break the stream of power for even a moment, before he tried to transform, only to fail.

Outside the room, the windings of lighter blues began to creep along the sky. The clock read five twenty-one A.M.

He was running out of time

When Danny looked into the cloaked mans eyes, he saw himself, the same pointed chin, and the same straight nose. He saw the same eyes, and the ame hair, respectively, in their white and green states. When the hood came off, he was greeted with the same goofy smile, and the same upturned eyebrows. And when he opened his mouth, he was met with the same voice that echoed in his ears every time he said something.

"Youre me."

The other arched a brow and licked his bottom lip before placing his hands back in his cloak. "More or less." Danny opened his mouth to say something in response but was broken when the boy said."You're really stupid for coming here."

"What?" He was taken aback. Far back.

"Vlad told you specifically not to come here, and now look at you." He said gesturing to the boy, head to toe.

"You just gestured to all of me!"

"Exactly my point."

"Danny crossed his arms and looked to the side, realizing how much like himself the other is, before gandering a glance back at the other to express his discontent to the other. He was so crass, and wild, and with the tragedy of the events following him getting here, the boy in the cloak (which he speculated was a projection of his mind or something of the sort) was a tad anticlimactic. At this point he was in the expecting something of the sorts to pop out and eat his face, or a hole full of blades or something. He turned back to the cloaked boy, whose face had darkened with the cloak itself, and Danny swallowed nervously.

"How do I...How do I get home?" Hesitation was apparent in his voice as clear as day, and the other boy noted it, twisting his hands in the cloak boredly, and meeting the boy eyes.

"Didnt you come here for some new power?" He teased ceremoniously, smirking lowly as he came to tease the other boy in his squalor. Danny furrowed his brow embarrassedly, and kicked the dirt at his feet.

"I dont care. Just take me home."

It wouldn't end there, The other knew what his intentions were. "No, no, youre going to get your little power, and then ill send you home." He rattled deeply in the baritones of his voice.

Danny thought that he almost sounded malicious, and the quaver in his voice was borderline evil, but he didn't stop the double as the double repositioned Danny and placed his and on his chest.

He didn't know how, but he felt the pressure, and then the hole blast through his chest like a cannonball had flown through him.

Initially, the boy winced against his own words, the others hands pressed Deeply past his ribcage, Danny gave a false gasp, and then allowed the quaver of the hand that ventured around his left lung, and too his heart. Danny couldn't speak, couldn't breath, but could only tremble against the lateral of a arm inside his chest. It was such a searing pain, like ten thousand pounds of glass being pressed into one point on his chest, and continuously inched into him with the pace of a snail. It hurt to move, but perseverance came to the younger man, and he was able to position his hands on the writ of the other, who was grinning with malice and salt in his smile. Danny clasped a grip around the others arm, but the boy countered, and flicked past his lungs, and into his heart. Danny coughed mediocrely, and felt some blood come up out his mouth, and a little trickle out his nose. His eyes managed with all its might to meet his Double's while the others hands grasped around his heart. Eyes filled with white hot tears edged his eyes, and the blood trickled profusely from his nose.

He couldn't make out exactly what Double murmured into him has he crushed his heart, but he could wonder about that later.

Vlad was fading.

He could smell the sun on the brink of the horizon, and the more he looked towards Danny, the more anxious he became. He was shaking, His hands barely holding onto the connection between him and the chalk circle. For a good thirty minutes, Danny had been convulsing and rattling in his levitating state, thrashing about and opening his mouth as if to screech. Vlad had been shaken with fear, and prayed to whatever god was out there that the boy was okay, and that the encroaching sun wouldn't take him before he could.

Again, he shook the sweat from his brow, as Danny, again, began to resonate, this time a creeping frost coming from his power, and beginning to flash freeze the whole room. Vlad gasped, not picking his hands up, but spreading what little power he had left over his own body to keep him warm and prepared as the blue twinges of the boys ice core created an example along the bedroom. He was becoming desperate, the instability of a ghosts core meant that the boy was most likely fading from this world. He was scared, his throat full of fear and his heart full of regret.

He didn't know what to do, and he gave the last bit of what he had to him, to try and call the boy back from the depths of his mind.

"DANIEL! DANIEL I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP. THE SUN IS COMING!" He tried as formally as he could. In response, more frost came, such a wave that threatened to break through his shield of heat. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were tired, but he would not let go. "DANIEL. PLEASE," The stress behind that word was with all he could pour in it. "WERE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!" He couldn't sound more urgent. His hands were beginning to numb and the sun was beginning to peek out from behind the sky. The boy was thrashing violently, clawing at his chest as if to tear his heart out. Vlad on the other hand, was out of power and out of time, and his connection to the circle was becoming more and more faint. A blur came to his eyes as the boys ice core wound itself up again to relinquish another blast of ice, and Vlad did all he could to brace himself for it. His eyes clamped shut and his hands pressed as hard as he could into the chalk lines, the connection threatening to break, and the man himself threatening to pass out from exhaustion.

He didn't see the core of the boy expel all that it had, but he felt it press up against the heat of his core, dangerously close to eating through his heat covering that protected him so. There was a deafening crack of a body on hardwood, and a insufferable cross between a gurgle and a moan that could only foretell the worst.

Vlad finally unclasped his tired eyes, and count the boy, on his knees, clutching his glowing chest, as the ground began to freeze behind him. Vlad thought him being alive was a miracle, but he saw the boy painfully clutching the upper portion of his stomach, an ice blue fissure of light glowing beneath his pained hands. He sat up, and pushed the wisps of his ponytail back behind his ears.

"Daniel?"

The boy gave no response, Vlad didn't think he could muster one to begin with, but he could hear the deficit of a slow sub that crept under the minors breath like a hushed whisper that nobody would ever hear.

Sympathy washed over him, and he came to the boy, who nary jump back nor push him away. He placed one hand on Danny's shoulder, and the other, on the boys hands covering his core. Danny hitched painfully, but the softness of the older halfa's touch came to him like a comfort, and slowly, he peeled away the hands and presented the glowing core of frost that shook painfully at his chest.

He was unstable, and with the amount of energy that he was putting off, He could alert andy formidable ghosts to challenge him.

Desperate times called for desperate measures he supposed, and with a slow inhale, Vlad did all he could do.

The exhale came with sharpness, and his heat core came to resonate in his chest. He allowed his to link in conjunction with the others, permitting some of his energy to abstain the others. Danny gasped in surprised, but allowed the other to do his work, making an attempt to regulate the others corrupted core to a minimal safe point.

They stayed there long after the sun came up and kissed their tired bones with orange light.

It was all the two could muster.

Hi, Id like to thank you for making it to chapter 5!, I feel a bit hallow asking for this, but some feedback (aside from follows/favorites) would really help the development of this project. Thank you!


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